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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645598">England's Nightmare</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Gen, Hetalia: The World Sings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Why did you make me write this.<br/>"So good my friend nearly suffocated!"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>England's Nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidMagpie/gifts">StupidMagpie</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was coming towards him.</p><p>Petrified, sunken, swallowed, the floor carrying him under, all he could do was watch.</p><p>It was coming towards him.</p><p>Desperately he tugged. Screaming at his limbs to move, goddamnit, trying to drag himself away, away. It was futile.</p><p>It was coming towards him.</p><p>England was not going to give up. No, whatever vile beast the Heavens had sent down upon him, his reckoning, his punishment, whatever foul creature was trekking this Hellish plane, he was going to tear through, rip through, with the little strength he had left.</p><p>It was coming towards him.</p><p>He would…</p><p>It was coming towards him.</p><p>He…</p><p>It was here.</p><p>Eyes darting left, right, centre, away, away, focusing, blurring. But all he could do was look at those devilish eyes. Its breath heavy on his skin. Its eyes opened wide. Wide, looking straight into him. Pupils dilating. Panting. Heaving. Here, he was weak. Here, he was helpless. There was no life left in him. A dark mist was surrounding him. The pale white creature was enveloping him. Wings…? An angel? No… Silk, soft fabric, flowing elegantly in the breeze. Fair locks draped on its head. A sly, devious smile.</p><p>“...France…?”</p><p>It smiled at him.</p><p>England had no life left in him.</p><p>Slowly he let himself be dragged away. What pain was coming he didn’t know. What horrors were coming he didn’t know. But the creature made no sign of stopping, no hesitating, the man with the pale cloak of Hell and the smile of an angel, grasped him, pulled him upwards, upwards into his arms…? And it was then he finally noticed the bundle of flowers, that coy grin in full focus, the slip of paper that was presented before him. Scrawled on the top the letters read: ‘MARRIAGE REGISTRATION FORM’.</p><p>The horror had crept in. The abhorrent monstrosity presented before him finally fully formed. The pit in his stomach seemed to drag him into the earth. A sickening feeling crawled through his bones. A chill seeped through his skin.<br/>“F-France... “</p><p>It smiled even more.</p><p>“France...! W-What…”</p><p>Again it smiled.</p><p>“FRANCE!”</p><p>“...Mon ami?”</p><p>He was staring at a yellow ceiling.</p><p>It was his own. He realised he was holding his breath and finally let go, feeling air return to his lungs. He was in his own bed, in his own room, in his own house. Relief washed over him, his limbs relaxed, he felt warmth. It was for nothing, however, as he saw France looking down on him, with that same smug smile as usual.</p><p>“I walked in to annoy you and steal your snacks but you were screaming my name, so I thought I must see what was going on!” He was giggling to himself and winked at him.</p><p>“I-” England had nothing to say back.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You… you were chasing me… In-In a wedding… a wedding dress,” he finished quickly.</p><p>It seemed France had to process what had just been said for a minute (and England couldn’t blame him, he was still trying to figure it out too), before bursting out in laughter. Even after a minute it hadn’t ceased and he was practically on the floor.</p><p>“I-I bet I looked beautiful!”</p><p>“You were forcing me to marry you!”</p><p>“Oh mon dieu, you’re still hung up on that? It was years ago!”</p><p>“Ugh…”</p><p>Exhausted, he simply hung his head in his arms, while letting out what could only be described as a dying animal’s cry for help.</p><p>"Hangon, you came all the way across the channel to steal my bloody snacks?!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Go watch the Hetalia musical if you haven't already. Then this will make more sense.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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